A zealous gust, feathers a-ruffling; Eyes closed in silence, listening. Whispers of life, yet far from realising We're all but one, no matter where we're flying. Looking below, a depthless abyss. Memories of the sun's soft, warm kiss... We take the fall, drop into a glide and miss Traps and thorns revealing nostalgic vivids...
As you walk on, each step, each turn leaves behind a pug-mark that recounts the tale of your journey...